Tender is the Touch
by Magica Draconia
Summary: It was like a distorted version of Goldilocks – one moment too possessive, one moment too absent. Will things ever be just all right?


_Written for Snarry-a-thon 16 at the snape_potter community on livejournal, under the name magika_draconia, for the Wild Card #1 prompt._

 _Prompts included: Prompt #61 from the 2009 Snarry-a-Thon – "Harry is fed up with Snape's possessiveness. He can't come home late, he can't go out with friends without Snape permission, if anyone gave Harry 'a funny look' (in Snape's definition) they get seriously hexed, etc. But one day, things change. Snape no longer breathes down his neck. What happens? Harry begins to worry..." – with inspiration/influence from REM's Losing My Religion._

 _Prompt #146 from 2012 – "Enjoy the Silence Based on the song by Depeche Mode." . . . sort of._

 _And to round up the whole musical love-fest this thing turned into, the title is from Tender, by Blur – "Tender is the touch, of someone that you love too much."_

* * *

"And where have you been?"

Harry Potter froze in the act of bending over to remove his boots as the question floated out of the dining room. Peering into the darkened room, he could just about see the top of a head above the high-backed armchair.

"Ah, I was having a drink with Ron and Seamus," he finally replied, straightening up again, boots forgotten.

"I see. Just a night out with the boys? That makes, what, the third time this week?"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Severus, you're not on about that again, are you?" Harry asked, lifting a hand to rub the back of his neck. This was getting ridiculous. Severus Snape had been his partner for five years now, but he'd been regularly meeting up with the boys he'd gone to Hogwarts with long before that. Harry didn't see why Severus had a problem with it.

There was a snort of disdain, and the sound of a book being slammed shut. "Excuse me for wanting to spend some time with my lover," Severus said, and from the tone of his voice, Harry could imagine the sneer curling his lips.

"Wha— Sev, we spend _plenty_ of time together!" Harry protested. "It's not as if I'm out every night!" And in fact he was always home by nine.

Severus got to his feet and turned to face Harry, folding his arms over his chest. "And not a word of when to expect you home," he continued. "What if I'd made plans for us tonight?"

That brought Harry up short. "You . . . you had plans for us tonight?" he asked, weakly.

"No," snapped Severus, glowering at him. "But you didn't know that. Perhaps you could try extending me the courtesy of letting me know when you go out with someone else."

"Go out with someone else?" Harry repeated, baffled. "Sev, you make it sound as though I snuck out for a date with someone! It was just drinks with Ron and Seamus."

"And I suppose Granger-Weasley and Finnegan's girlfriend _du jour_ were there, too?"

"Um, well, no," Harry admitted. "Hermione's pregnant again, and Seamus and Daphne split up last week."

"Really?" The word was purred out in a very deep voice that didn't bode well for the next time Severus saw Seamus. Somehow, the older man had gotten it in his head that the reason none of Seamus' relationships ever lasted for longer than three weeks was because he was carrying a torch for Harry. The last time his Irish friend had helped a drunken Harry home, Severus had hexed him so hard that Harry had ended up calling St. Mungo's for assistance. Unsurprisingly, Seamus had kept a wary distance from Severus after that.

Harry rolled his eyes. "For Merlin's sake, Sev!" he complained. "Don't start that again! And besides, haven't you always told me that Malfoy can never keep a relationship going for more than a week, either? Does that mean I have to worry about him being attracted to _you_?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Severus snorted. "As if Draco would ever go for someone who is . . . less than classically handsome. Not to mention twice his age and old enough to be his father." Severus paused, and then snorted again, more derisively. "Or old enough to attend _school_ with his father," he added.

Harry suddenly had an epiphany. Perhaps he had just found a source of Severus' insecurities. Everything Severus had just said about Malfoy could very well be applied to Harry himself. Maybe Severus was so antagonistic towards Seamus because he believed Seamus would make a more suitable partner for Harry . . . and believed Seamus thought so, too.

"Sev—" he started, softly, holding out a hand towards his lover, but Severus was obviously already regretting his candour, as he shook his head and took a hasty step backwards.

"No! I just—" The older man paused and took a breath. "A bit of courtesy would not go unappreciated, next time," he said, and then turned and hurried up the stairs. Harry heard their bedroom door shut rather abruptly, and sank down onto the nearest seat. He'd had no idea Severus was still that unsure of him after five years.

It was half an hour before Harry looked down and realised he still had his boots on.

* * *

"It's getting ridiculous," Harry complained to Ron and Hermione several nights later. They were sat in the Three Broomsticks, glasses of firewhisky in front of Ron and Harry, and Hermione nursing a small butterbeer. "I can't seem to go anywhere alone without him throwing a fit over it. He's started constantly firecalling me at work. It was just once a week or so before, usually to arrange to meet for lunch or something. But now it's several times a day, and never at the same times. It's like he's hoping he'll catch me out somehow."

"Is that why he's lurking in the back over there, pretending not to look in this direction?" Hermione asked, her head tilted curiously.

"He's _what_?!" Harry exclaimed, and spun to face the back of the pub. Sure enough, hidden away in one corner was Severus, who seemed to be doing his best to try and blend in with the wall. "Merlin's Beard!" groaned Harry, dropping his head briefly into his hands.

"How long has he been there?" asked Ron, squinting at Severus' corner. "I thought that booth was empty . . ."

Hermione shrugged. "It may well have been," she replied. "Equally, he could have had Notice-Me-Not spells up."

"Harry, mate, you have to talk to him," Ron said, grimacing. "He can't go round spying on you all the time."

"I _have_ talked to him," Harry protested. "But apparently he doesn't believe me when I tell him nothing happens on nights when I'm out with you."

"He thinks Ron's the problem?" asked Hermione, shrewdly.

Harry shook his head and drained the rest of his firewhisky, slamming the cup back down to the table. The new owner of the Three Broomsticks, Madam Rosmerta's niece, Arcalia, had apparently noticed his distress, as his cup instantly filled to the brim again. Harry was tempted to just drain that one, too. "He thinks anyone who isn't _him_ is the problem," he said, glumly. "Don't even ask what happened when I tried to go for a drink with just Seamus and Neville." He still shuddered remembering it now.

"Hey!" blurted Ron, suddenly. "He's gone again!"

They all turned to look. Sure enough, the booth appeared empty.

"You think he really has left?" Hermione asked Harry, who was already shaking his head in resignation.

"No. He's either moved, or put his spells back up." Harry drained his glass again, and then pushed his chair back. "I'm sorry, guys, but I think it's time I went."

"Oh, Harry, _no_!" "Stay with us a bit longer, mate!" his friends chorused in protest, but Harry was adamant. With a last, fulminating look at the empty booth, he stalked from the Three Broomsticks and Apparated away.

* * *

"SEVERUS! THIS HAS GONE FAR ENOUGH!" Harry bellowed as he arrived home the following week.

"Oh, you're home early! What a nice surprise!" said Severus from the doorway. His lips twitched as he looked at Harry.

Harry clenched his fists, ignoring the slimy glop that was steadily dripping off of him onto the carpet in front of the fireplace. "Severus," he began, through gritted teeth, "the tracking charm you placed on my left elbow set off half the alarms at work. The _entire_ reception area is covered in this . . . this . . . _stuff_!" He gestured dramatically down at himself, uncaring that more glop was flung out into the room. "It _does. Not. Come. OFF!_ Severus," he finished, folding his arms.

Severus just smirked at him. "It will . . . once you bathe in the antidote," he suggested, his eyes glancing over Harry in a way that implied Harry would also be bathing with _him_.

Unfortunately for Severus, Harry was in no mood to play whatever water games Severus had in mind this time. He scowled at Severus, and stomped his way out of the room.

"I suppose you don't want help scrubbing your back?" Severus called after him. Harry just growled in response.

When he got to the bottom of the stairs, though, he paused for a second before continuing up.

He did _not_ think he'd just heard Severus mutter, "At least they didn't find the other one."

 _He didn't!_

* * *

With a sigh, Harry stared at the window of a nearby shop for a moment, and then continued strolling down Diagon Alley. Severus thought he was being sneaky, tailing Harry this way, but Harry had not been the favourite topic of the Wizarding press without learning a few things – he knew when he was being followed.

 _We really need to sit down and talk about this,_ he thought, miserably. As if the constant firecalls, the "oh-what-a-surprise-what-are-you-doing-here" when Severus just _happened_ to be at the same place as Harry and his friends, the obvious opening of his mail "for your convenience, obviously" and the – completely unauthorised, and therefore illegal – tracking charms weren't bad enough, now Severus had sunk so low as to be following Harry whenever he left the house.

Harry had no idea what Niffler had invaded Severus' brain now, but the fact that he plainly didn't trust Harry anymore hurt. They'd been together for five years, damn it, and Harry had _never_ given any sign that he was unhappy with their relationship. He'd never given the tiniest hint that he was playing around with someone else. He'd never given the slightest whisper that he didn't love Severus anymore.

And yet Severus apparently believed otherwise.

Severus also didn't appear to think that Harry had the _subtlety_ to cheat, either, since he was following Harry down the middle of a busy street in broad daylight. _Honestly_ , Harry huffed to himself as he paused to check in the nearest window again. Yep – Severus was still hovering several yards behind him. _What kind of moron trying to hide their affair goes waltzing straight to the other person?_

Insight suddenly hit him like a Bludger to the gut, and Harry had to stop and lean against the nearest wall, winded.

 _Severus didn't believe he was trying to hide an affair. Severus thought he was trying to encourage a break-up._

He'd thought Severus had known him better than that. After all their conversations at the end of the war, while Severus recuperated and Harry finally attended his last year of Hogwarts, Harry had thought that Severus had come to understand him and who he was . . . and, more importantly, who he _wasn't_.

There was a sudden scuffling sound from close by, and a few indignant shouts. Harry looked over his shoulder. Severus hadn't seen him stop, and had gotten close enough to be easily recognised before he realised. His attempt to halt and back-pedal before he was spotted had caused a group of young witches to collide with him, and their parcels had been scattered across the street. Chaos was blossoming; as several people attempted to help the young ladies, others began berating Severus for not watching where he was going, and others tried to get around the group to continue their own shopping.

Shaking his head, and resolving to have yet another talk with Severus, Harry turned on the spot and Apparated home.

* * *

"Severus." This time, Harry was the one standing in the living room. For a moment, Severus looked chagrined at being caught out, but then he straightened his shoulders and moved calmly to stand in front of Harry. "This has to stop," Harry said, and didn't realise how that could sound until he saw the brief flash of absolute – and expectant – devastation in Severus' dark eyes. "Not us, _never_ us!" he added, firmly. "But the possessiveness, the wanting to know my every move, dictating who I can see and when I can see them, the _tracking charms_ ," he said, pointedly, and Severus flushed.

"I—" Severus started, but no other words appeared to be forthcoming, as Severus just closed his mouth again, shrugging helplessly.

"Sev, I _love_ you," Harry told him, reaching out to take Severus' hands in his own. "Okay? I'm not interested in anybody else; and if they're interested in me, well, then that's their tough luck. I haven't cheated on you, and I don't plan to, either. I give you my word, and," he added, squeezing Severus' hands tighter as a brilliant idea came to him, "I'll even swear an Unbreakable Vow on it."

" _No!_ " Severus blurted out, in what was almost a yell. "No," he added, trying to restore his dignity, although he still looked a bit shaken. "That is a foolish measure and will not be necessary. If you say you give your word that is good enough."

Harry studied his lover. "Are you sure?" he asked. "If it would reassure you that I'm not going to get tired of you . . ."

Severus gave a shaky croak of laughter. "You're a Gryffindor," he pointed out.

"And you're a Slytherin," Harry reminded him.

"Hmm." Severus looked down at their joined hands. Then he looked up at Harry, and the struggle to _believe_ was plain in his eyes. "I shall . . . do my best," he said, slowly, "to . . . curb . . . my instincts."

"And I shall do my best to communicate my plans a little more," said Harry. Tugging on Severus' hands, he pulled Severus' arms around his own waist, and then looped his arms tightly around Severus' neck, pulling the taller man's head down. Gently but firmly, he kissed Severus, coaxing the warm lips to relax and open. "I love you," he whispered against Severus' mouth.

"I love you, too," he heard Severus whisper back, but he couldn't shake the feeling that there had been something hopeless about the words.

* * *

Two weeks later, Harry was reflecting on the wisdom of the saying _be careful what you wish for_. Severus had quit following him, quit opening his mail, quit dictating his friends . . . had, in fact, quit everything. Harry had seen him once in the past week, and that had been a lucky accident when he'd gotten up in the middle of the night and almost bumped into Severus in the hallway.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Harry wondered now if he'd gotten it wrong before. Maybe Severus hadn't been keeping track of him because he was worried Harry was cheating. Maybe Severus had been keeping track of him to help _Severus_ get away with cheating.

Why else would Severus have all but disappeared?

He couldn't even discuss things with Ron and Hermione. Well, he could, but he would have felt foolish complaining that Severus wasn't around anymore, when just weeks before he'd been complaining that Severus never left him alone.

 _I just can't win!_ he thought. Lying down on his back, Harry stared at the ceiling. It would have been nice if Severus could have found somewhere in the middle, rather than either suffocation or abandonment. The man hadn't even made a token protest when Harry had gone for drinks with Seamus, Neville and Ernie McMillan straight from work.

Okay, Harry hadn't _enjoyed_ it – and the night had grown distinctly worse when, upon visiting a new and trendy bar, Seamus had innocently piped up halfway through the night, "Strange, Malfoy's not here. He practically lives in this bar usually. Must have been someone good to pull him away!" complete with lewd wink – but it was the principle of the thing! Severus had thought Seamus would make a move on Harry with the least bit of encouragement, but then suddenly didn't care?

In fact, remembering Seamus' comment, Harry began to worry. He'd joked about Malfoy holding out for Severus . . . And Severus had dismissed that because _he_ wasn't suitable for Malfoy. Had Malfoy managed to convince him that _Malfoy_ thought he was suitable enough?

Feeling a knot starting to form in his stomach, Harry sat up again. Where was Severus right now? He should have come upstairs to bed half an hour ago, but there was no sign of him. Usually he at least warned Harry if he was going to spend most of the night brewing, but as far as Harry knew, Severus hadn't even been in his lab today.

 _Perhaps he wasn't worried about me falling out of love with him_ , Harry thought to himself, beginning to chew on the side of his thumbnail. _Perhaps he was worrying about how to tell me he's fallen out of love with me._

* * *

Things did not get better. Harry began to wonder whether he should just start telling people that he was single again. It was half past four on a Sunday morning – and Severus had not come home yet. Apparently "a trip to the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts to procure ingredients" actually meant "a night out, possibly with Draco Malfoy, and don't wait up."

When the fire flared with Severus' arrival, it was just after sunrise, and Harry was curled in an armchair, all of his fingernails bitten to shreds.

"Where have you been?" he croaked out.

Severus looked surprised to see him, and then worried at the state he was in. "Did you not see the message I left for you?" he asked, approaching where Harry sat, warily. "I had to make a trip to the Forbidden Forest, to—"

"No, where were you _really_?" demanded Harry.

There was a pause, and then Severus said, softly, "Harry—"

Harry interrupted. He did not want to hear whatever Severus had to say – especially if it was about Malfoy. "No, you know what, never mind," he said, hurriedly. He uncurled himself from the chair and shakily stood up. "Sev, we need to talk," he added, huskily.

The other wizard's face immediately went blank. "Do we?" he said, in a very flat tone of voice.

"Severus . . . are you in love with Malfoy?" Harry suddenly blurted out. He blushed as soon as the question was out and bit his lip. He hadn't meant to ask that.

Severus' blank mask slipped, and a look of pure shock showed on his face for a moment. "Am I _what_?!" he asked, incredulously. "Harry, where on earth would you get an imbecilic idea like that?"

"Okay, but are you in love with someone else?" Harry continued, not wanting to debate the merits of being in love with Malfoy. He thought he'd make himself sick if he tried.

"Harry, _why_ are you asking that?" Severus folded his arms across his chest.

"Because I've hardly seen you for the past few weeks," Harry whispered.

Severus rolled his eyes at him. "Did you, or did you not, want space from me?" he huffed, crossly. "You didn't like it when I was . . . interested in you, and now you don't like it when I keep my distance." In complete exasperation, he actually threw his hands up. "What would you like me to do!" he shouted.

"I . . . I . . . I just want you to love me," Harry said, and then – mortifyingly – burst into tears.

Shocked, Severus gaped at him for a moment, before stepping closer and abruptly pulling Harry into his arms, holding him tight. "Dunderheaded brat," he said, softly, into Harry's ear. "All I've ever wanted – all I ever need – is right here, in my arms. I swear to you, Harry, I'm not in love with anybody but you."

Harry sniffled, and pressed his face into Severus' shoulder.

"You have no idea," Severus continued, tilting his head to rest his cheek on the top of Harry's head, "just how difficult it has been for me these last few weeks. I will have to replace a lot of glassware in my lab . . . and most of the trees in our neighbour's garden, too," he added, guiltily.

Letting out a choked, wet giggle, Harry lifted his head enough to look into Severus' eyes. "I missed you," he admitted. "It felt like you abandoned me. I felt – so lonely."

"I'm sorry," Severus said, softly. "I will never leave you again. Ever. In any way." And pressing a soft kiss to Harry's lips, he began to draw Harry towards the bedroom, determined to seal the pledge.


End file.
